


More Than a Youth

by LydiaOLydia



Category: Lovely Little Losers, Nothing Much to Do
Genre: 5 Times, 5 Times Plus One, Beards, Character Death, Drugs mention, Engagement, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, I promise it's still fluff, alcohol mention, bea and ben go traveling together, egregious 70s music lyrics, fluffy fluff, literal beards not a euphemism, post lovely little losers, the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:59:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6188311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOLydia/pseuds/LydiaOLydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 Ways Beatrice and Benedick could have gotten engaged and the way they really did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Auckland

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an American and I kept American spellings, but tried to do some research on Kiwi (and English!) slang. If anything is really off, feel free to let me know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the drive from Wellington back to Auckland.

_Should I fall out of love, my fire in the light, to chase a feather in the wind?_

"All of My Love" Led Zepplin  


Bea was so relieved Ben was coming with her to Auckland, she hadn’t thought about the fact they’d barely spoken since they'd heard the news about Leo.

And apparently he wasn’t interested in speaking now. That was fine. At first she curled up and slept, exhausted and worn out from all the worries and tears of the last few days. When she woke up about an hour later, she could sense Ben looking at her.  


“Watch the road,” she said, feeling slightly groggy and grumpy.  


“Mmm-hmm,” Ben said. He looked back at the road even though it was a boring, straight stretch with nothing to look at, not even sheep. 

Wait, he wasn’t going to have a comeback for her sass? No, “haha, I was just looking because there’s drool all over your face?” Or Bea, you’ve got to stop shouting my name in your sleep, it’s really embarrassing.” Nothing?  


“Wow, amazing conversationalist, you are.” There, he would have to say something now.  


He shook his head, a slight frown on his face like he wanted to say something but wouldn’t. What? What was going on with him? She’d never heard Ben stay quiet for this long. If you’d asked her before if it was possible, she’d of sworn he’d die in some kind of crazy word explosion.  


He turned on the radio, but when Fife and Drums came on, he tapped gently on the steering wheel and sang under his breath. Fife and Drums usually merited blasting the music full blast, rolling down the windows and goofy dance movies.  


“You can turn it up.”  


Ben glanced over at her. “I’m fine.” His grip on the wheel tightened slightly.  


This was weird. This was really, really weird. Even when they’d hated each other, they’d always talked. A lot. Everyone always complained the hard part was getting the two of them to shut up.  


“Would you like trade off for a bit? Why don’t we pull over and grab a snack?”  


They stopped at a small dairy and grabbed some things for takeaway.  


"There used to be some picnic benches and some swings under those pine trees. " Bea gestured behind the parking lot.  


Ben frowned, then nodded. "You've done this drive a lot. I keep forgetting."  


"Yeah, this was always the exciting part. Knowing I was going to see Hero and Leo soon."  


She shivered. She was anxious to see Leo, but excited wasn't quite the right word for what she felt.  


They sat on opposite sides of the picnic table and silently split up their snacks the way they usually did. Ben got exactly half her chocolate. She got half his crisps. They each had their own milkshake because they refused to share something as important as a milkshake. 

She waited for him to comment on anything. At this point she wasn't dying for sparkling conversation, she'd settle for discussing the cracks in the pavement. Is this what their whole drive was going to be like? Was he regretting offering to drive with her? Was he already mentally planning how to extricate himself from this situation and get back to Wellington? Why wouldn't he talk to her?

Ugh, she was Beatrice Duke and she hated, hated, hated worrying over a boy. Could any boy be worth this aggravation? Even if this was Ben she was talking about. 

She bit down on a piece of chocolate a little harder than was necessary. This was impossible. 

Ben licked some salt off his lips and she had a sudden bolt of inspiration. She knew of one really good way to shut Ben up. Maybe it worked to get him talking too.

She cleared her throat to get his attention. He glanced up. “Come here.”  


His forehead wrinkled in confusion, but he leant a millimeter closer.  


“No, really come here.” 

His eyes widened a bit.  


“I’m not going to bite. I want to kiss you.” She cupped his jaw in the palm of her hand and pulled him close. After what seemed like forever, their lips met.

It wasn’t exactly their most sexy or passionate kiss ever. It probably wouldn’t even make the top ten. Not that she had a list. Okay, maybe there was a mental list, but whatever. The point was this kiss wasn’t the best. They were awkwardly leaning across the table and she’d taken him by surprise. But he tasted like salt and vinegar crisps and banana milkshake and just everything she’d been missing for what felt like forever.

When he pulled back his eyes were still closed, but he had a slight smile of relief on his face. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“You coward. You made me kiss you first!” She reached over and punched him in the arm, but he ducked out of the way. She ran over to his side to get a better angle and he quickly grabbed her and yanked her into his lap. And okay, she could have gotten up, but maybe it was too good to have his stupidly long, skinny arms around her again.  


“I missed this a lot. I missed you.”  


He squeezed her tighter. “Me too. I was stupid.”

“No argument here.”

For a while they just sat there together.

“I still want to go traveling, you know. With you.” She added for extra clarity.  


“I wasn’t sure with Leo and everything that had gone on. I thought your plans might have changed. I didn't want to assume anything, but I didn't want to pressure you because you're under a lot of stress.” he said the words in a rush. 

Bea laughed. "I’m not a great nursemaid. The aunties and Hero will be better with him, but I do want to see him and let him know I love him and support him. I really want to see with my own two eyes he’s okay. And if he ever takes a turn for the worst, or we need to come back, we do it.”

“Of course."

“Maybe once we're in Auckland we can start planning the trip.”

She slid off his lap and starting tidying up their rubbish. She had a sudden need to be busy and not look him in the eye. Her heart twinged a little with anxiety. She had put a lot of herself out there all at once. Was she being foolish? Shut up, heart.

“No time like the present. Let’s start now.” Ben pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper and pen from his bag. “Right first thing that goes on the list is Laguna Colorada in Bolivia.”

“Do I even want to know why?”  


"Best place in the world to see flamingos in the wild. Although there are some really great spots in Africa too.” He chewed at his pen thoughtfully.  


Bea groaned. “We’re not going around the world to see birds, are we?”  


“Is there a greater or more noble reason to see the world?”

They were going to be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I understand why Lovely Little Losers had the ending it did. It really fit in with the "dramedy" quality of Love's Labor Lost and no, it wasn't realistic for Bea and Ben to have a big, gooey romantic finale after everything they had just been through as a couple and as individuals. They had lot more to tackle (Leo's illness) and a lot more growing up to do. 
> 
> But, I needed . . . more. I'm a lover of many genres, but I'm at heart a romance reader and writer. I once read a romance writer I admire describe the epilogue in a romance novel as "tying it up with a bow." In other words, you've gone through emotional agony with these characters, you want to end on a big moment where you feel reassured of their love and you can kind of savor that moment and end on a high note. It's not reality and that's kind of the point. So this is my attempt to put a bow on the end of Lovely Little Losers.


	2. Thailand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This a 5 times fic (the first I've published!) and if their trip itinerary doesn't add up, well, that's because these are all slightly differing realities for their trip.  
> Implied sexual situations (pretty mild stuff) and swearing from here on out.  
> There's also some (lighthearted) joking about Catholicism. So, if that offends you, you might want to pass.

_Well, there's a light in your eyes that keeps shining, like a star that can't wait for the night._

"Fool in the Rain" Led Zepplin

They spent the first month of the trip bouncing around Southeast Asia, but it became obvious they needed to slow down and save up some money before the next leg of the journey. They settled on Thailand in the dry season. Ben was in bird nerd heaven and although sometimes the tropical heat made her miserable, Beatrice had to admit she was happy too.

Ben got a job teaching English and she was working under the table as a waitress in a little cafe that catered to the backpacking crowd.

She died a little inside anytime someone called her "the Aussie" or tried out their lame Crocodile Dundee accents, but Honorio, a little old Fillpino man who owned the place, was a sweetheart. He didn't care if she slapped a handsy customer and he let her smuggle home tea bags for Ben.

But best of all, he let them rent a place above the cafe for almost nothing. It was glorified bedsit with a lumpy mattress and a broken wicker dresser, but it was all theirs. No curfews, no rules besides what they decided. Just Ben and Bea, the two of them floating in a little bubble of happiness.

But now Ben had been tramping for two days with a bunch of elderly Canadians on a bird watching tour and she was ridiculously, dorkily excited for him to come home tonight.

He was in bed asleep when her shift finally ended. She did her best to tiptoe through the room, but honestly he could sleep like the dead. It was karaoke night in the cafe downstairs and if he could sleep through drunken students caterwauling Mariah Carey, he could sleep through anything.

She rinsed the sweat and smoke off of her in their tiny shower. She snagged one her favorite of his T-shirts, a battered Futurama shirt he'd owned at least since she'd met him, if not longer. No way was she going to tell him she'd been sleeping in it the last few nights because she missed him that much.

Bea sat on the bed and cleared her throat meaningfully. Still no reaction. Okay, she was tired. He was tired, but still -- 

She slipped under the covers and reached to brush his face gently in the dark and paused at an unfamiliar prickle under her fingertips.

She groaned. "Oh my god, you're growing a beard. Ugh. You fucking . . . hippie. I hate beards. Hate them. "

"Someone keeps stealing my razors." Ben said, half asleep, but he reached for her hip and squeezed.

"It has to go." She said.

"You haven't seen me for two days and this is what you want to argue about?" His fingers slipped under the T-shirt and rubbed at the small of her back. Oh, now he was waking up?

"I bet you can't even grow a beard." She remembered a disastrous attempt at a mustache a few Christmases ago.

Ben laughed. "Challenge accepted." His big, dumb hands traced warm patterns on her skin and -- focus. She had to focus here.

"I'll stop shaving in protest." She rubbed a smooth leg against his. He made a little mumble of appreciation.

"Don't care. You'll still be the most beautiful, sexy woman on the planet." So apparently he had learned something from the great Bali leg hair debate. He kissed her throat and even with that awful, scratchy feeling, he smelled good and she had missed him. She could feel her resolve slipping away. Dammit.

"It's coming off the minute we get back home." She said in a firm voice. The music below switched to a K-pop tune and the English speaker singer stumbled through it as best they could. It wasn't an improvement on Mariah Carey.

His fingers went slack. "So, we're going back home together then? When the year is up? "

Beatrice bit her lip.

The bubble of happiness wobbled a bit, as if it might pop. Yeah, okay they had said communication was key, but they'd both been so shit at it in the last year. Lately they'd talked about books, politics, art, music, movies, family, everything. They talked about anything but their future together. They never planned any farther ahead than the trip destinations on their battered piece of paper that Ben kept tucked in his back pocket.

She traced a shape on his cheek, trying to get used to the unfamiliar scruffiness. "If that's what you want, than yes. That's what I want too."

"It's all I want." His fingers pressed into her skin a little tighter. "I'm here, aren't I?"

She huffed out a breath. "Yeah, but -"

:"Go look on the dresser." He slid away from her and sat up. She felt a little colder without his arms around her. Which was, well, ridiculous.

"Why?"

"Beatrice, do it for fuck's sake."

She walked over to the dresser. There was a box. Not a fancy velvet box. Just a little white box, the kind you would put candy in. Something chilly and uneasy crept up her back. Like ice cold spiders walking on her spine. This couldn't be what she thought it was.

She fake gasped. "You brought me back chocolates? You shouldn't have."

Ben sighed. "Quit stalling. Open it."

Now or never.

She opened the box slowly, as if a snake was going to jump out. There was a silver ring with a tiny mound of green jade dropped on top. It wasn't anything glamorous or flashy, but it looked familiar. As a matter of fact, it looked frighteningly like a ring she had seen back in a fancy gift shop in Auckland. Only Hero knew how much she loved it. They had seen one day when they were killing time before one of Leo's doctor's appointment. She'd glanced at the price tag and groaned. Saving for the trip was more important than any piece of jewelry, so she put it out of her mind at the time.

"This looks real," she said, feeling dizzy. Her legs couldn't quite hold her up for some strange reason.

"It's not going to make your finger turn green, if that's what you're asking. Don't get mad at me, okay? Honorio is a sweet old guy, but he's a good Catholic and he keeps hinting I'm ruining your honor. "

"He's never said anything to me." Bea bristled a little at the patriarchy and their obnoxious, obsolete honor code.

"Well, he wouldn't would he? You're an innocent woman and I've clearly seduced you." He sounded a little too smug just then.

"God, it sounds like you're enjoying this."

"Bea, come on. I could never do anything you didn't want to do. You and I both know that. Can we humor a sweet old man, please?: Before he starts making me go to Sunday Mass?"

"I don't care what Honorio thinks, really." Bea picked up the ring. It was a tiny thing, but somehow it felt like it had a huge weight to it.

"Maybe I care what he thinks, huh? Anyways, I was saving it, but maybe it would be better if you wore it now. Even if it's temporary."

She slipped the ring on. It fit perfectly, cool but snug on her ring finger. The right ring. The right size. She had a horrible suspicion this wasn't some impulse purchase, like when he bought her a "Jon Snow Lives" T-shirt for her birthday.

Karaoke switched to November Rain, which meant the night was almost over. She could sit here for eight minutes and fifty-seven seconds, listen to Axl Rose, and say nothing. Or she could give Ben an Answer. An Answer with a capital A.

"Umm," she said.

"Wow, have I rendered Beatrice Duke speechless? I'd never thought I'd live to see the day."

Bea ignored the snarky comment. Her brain was focusing on something else. "When you say you were saving it, what does that mean exactly?"

"I was hoping to give to you sometime in the future. Sometime when you wouldn't have a panic attack and instead you'd throw your arms around me and say 'yes, Ben, a thousand times, yes. I'll marry you.'"

She laughed. She couldn't help it. "Really? And how long have you known me?"

Ben sighed. "Long enough to know what I want. Even if you don't. Look wear it, don't wear it. I didn't want to spring anything on you and scare you. But yes, I want to go back home with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if I can."

Bea plopped back down on the bed, trying to process everything he'd said. "Well, okay, then. It's a deal."

"You want to shake hands on it?" Ben said, his voice half teasing.

"Shut up, Dickface." She bent down and gave him a fierce kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww, I like beards (sometimes). What can I say? This was the first scene that popped into my head for this fic. I could totally see Benedick being lazy and growing a beard and it driving Beatrice insane. All the chapters that follow will be different realities, but the beard stays for now. Sorry, Bea. ;-)


	3. Scotland - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this is two parter. Sorry! It had a lot of setup and was getting a bit too long for my taste. I like chapters to be equal-ish lengths.

_Love can cure your problems. You're so lucky I'm around._

"Let My Love Open the Door" Pete Townsend

They were sitting in a café in Rome. Bea took another bite of lemon gelato. She made Ben read the invitation a third time, trying to process her feelings.

“It’s just my second cousin, Tilly. We don’t have to go. No one expects it.”

“It’s in Scotland?” She let citrus feeling linger on her tongue for a moment. Italy really was fabulous. 

“Yup.” Ben raised his eyebrows at her. He wasn't pushing and she appreciated that. 

“Scotland’s on the list.” She said. She didn’t even have to look at the scribbled paper anymore. She knew the list by heart.

Ben nodded. 

“And it’s in a castle?” She could feel herself weakening. 

“Uh-huh.” Ben smirked. 

Spending a wedding weekend with the entire Hobbes family? Overwhelming. But on the other hand, a night in Scottish castle . . .

“En suite bathrooms?”

“Of course.”

She sighed, thinking about the last hostel they’d been in. She’d had to wait her turn for a shower and then she’d had to show all the cockroaches the door before turning on the tap.

Ben drummed his fingers on the counter. He’d temporarily switched to espresso because Italian tea was “foul” and the extra caffeine was making him more hyper than usual. “Probably a nice big bath tub even.”

She huffed out a big breath. “Sold.”

Of course she didn’t have anything wedding appropriate in her luggage. Her clothes ran to jandals and sarongs, not formal dresses. When she got a hold of Hero to ask for a favor, she had to hold the phone away from her ear there was so much squealing. Hero promised she and Meg would take care of everything, all they needed was an address to ship the “gown.” Bea hung up with a feeling of foreboding. Hero was way too happy about this.

Then actually making it to the wedding required jiggling their plans a little, but Ben promised Scotland in August would be beautiful.

So when they arrived in Edinburgh, she groaned at the sheets of rain pouring down. 

“This is beautiful?” She said. “If I wanted rain, we could have stayed in Wellington.”

“Be quiet, you. You’ll see, it’ll clear up and be gorgeous.”

It did feel like a strange relief to drive on the left side again. Almost like home. Of course Ben insisted on naming every bird that flew over head. As long as he didn't hit any, she was fine with that. And Scotland was beautiful, she admitted grudgingly after the rain turned to a light mist and the hills glowed with purple and white heather. 

“It's beautiful, but desolate." She added, as they took another hairpin turn and her stomach flipped a bit. 

“Excuse me? Your country has more sheep than people and you’re saying this is desolate?”

They spent the next hour bickering about the exact meaning of the word desolate and if it could ever have a positive connotation. Bea was about to give the final devastating point to her argument when they pulled up to the castle. 

"Wow." This was a castle castle. Like something out of fairy tale or one of those romances Hero insisted she didn't read. The loch was on one side, sparkling in the late morning sun and a craggy hill (she laughed when Ben called it a ben) rose behind it. 

"Pretty impressive, huh?" Ben said. 

Bea made an attempt to recover. "It's all right, I guess. Nothing as tall as what we've got in the Southern Alps." 

Ben muttered something that sounded an awful lot like, "Bloody Kiwis," but when she asked him to repeat it, he just busied himself with the luggage. 

They made their way to the lobby only to be confronted by a hoard of Hobbes and associated relatives milling about. 

"It's not too late to turn around." Ben whispered. 

Bea gave his hand a squeeze. "Yeah it is. Your mum has spotted us." 

The next few minutes were a flurry of handshakes and awkward introductions. Bea was worried there would be some kind of fuss about her and Ben wanting a room together, but in fact it was quite to opposite. Everyone kept cooing over them and saying how romantic they were and when they were going to set the big date. It weirded her out a bit, honestly. Ben’s gran even got misty-eyed every time she glanced their way.

They managed to extricate themselves with a promise they would come down as soon as they were ready for the wedding and wouldn't hide away in their room. 

The suite was just as posh as the rest of the castle. There was a four poster bed covered with a duvet and what seemed like a million cloud soft pillows. They had a view of the loch and a window seat perfect for curling up and reading all day. 

"This was definitely worth giving up Liechtenstein and Luxembourg on the list," Ben said. "Even if it means missing out on the Black Stork breeding season." 

Bea gave a longing look at the huge bathtub and the big bed. She was exhausted and grubby from the early flight and days of non stop traveling. 

"Can we say we laid down for a nap and overslept and missed the wedding?" She said. 

Ben's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I'm game if you're game. Room service? Tea and shortbread?"

Her mouth watered. 

"Or maybe haggis?" 

Bea laughed. "Ugh. Way to kill the mood. Anyways, I won't be labelled a bad influence on you. We came all this way. We're doing this. But I've got first turn in the shower." 

Hero had been true to her word. The front desk had given Bea an airmail package when she checked in. She didn't even want to think about the cost. As she opened the box, she made a silent promise she would pay Hero back. She unfolded the dress and it made a slithery, silky sound as she shook it loose. It was emerald green with a gorgeous long skirt and a tiny peacock feather for her hair to match. She held it up to see the full length. That was the moment she realized the neckline was a filmy, sheer thing and it dipped so low you could see, well quite a lot.

She grabbed her phone. “What the hell? You’re dead to me.” She texted Meg. She didn't care what the time difference was. Hero may have paid for and mailed the dress, but this had Meg’s fingerprints all over it.

After exactly one second, her phone chimed. “Do you like the peacock fascinator? We couldn’t find a flamingo one. Give Ben our apologies.” Meg sent back with a winky face.

“Meg, I can’t believe you would do this to me. I’m here with Ben’s whole family. You are going to pay for this when I get my hands on you again.”

“You’re a big girl, Bea. It’s time to start dressing like one. No more pinafores and sloppy T-shirts. Don’t let Ben see the dress ahead of time though. It will spoil the effect.”

“I do not wear pinafores. I’m not five.”

“Exactly.” Meg sent an eggplant emoji.

Bea growled and chucked her phone on the bed.

“Oi.” Ben mumbled, not looking up from his copy of Sandman.

“Ben, get out. I have to get dressed.” She was fine. This was all fine. 

“What, when we’ve barely had a moment alone?” Ben sounded indignant, but this was a matter of pride. If he saw the dress, no if he saw her in the dress, he might laugh. And she’d die. No, she’d kill him first and then she’d die. 

“Leave now.” She said through gritted teeth.

“I’ve seen you naked before, you know. Many, many times.”

“Ben –“

“What if I close my eyes?” Ben fluttered his eyelashes. 

She pointed at the door.

Ben gave a faux sigh. “All right, I'll go change in Cousin Fergus's room, but you’re going to miss out on me modeling my kilt then.”

It took her a bit to wrestle into the dress by herself, but she would not ask for help. She was going to do this, dammit. She tried to recall all the hair and makeup tips Hero had given her over the years and did as best she could. When she was done, she took a turn in the mirror. She had to admit it. The dress did look good. It made her look, well, grownup. But it felt weird too, like she was playing dress up in someone else's clothes. She gave one more desperate tug at the neckline. No, it wasn't budging and if she tugged too hard, she'd rip it. 

There was a knock on the door. 

"Who is it?" Bea fiddled with her necklace. It was making her throat itch all of the sudden. 

"It's an immortal Time Lord who has come to whisk you away from all this." Ben said in his best sing song voice 'am I annoying you yet?" voice. 

Bea paused by the door and smoothed down her skirt for the hundredth time. There was no reason to be nervous. This was Ben, her boyfriend. He’d held her hair back when she vomited in a toilet in Mumbai. He’d given her a bear hug when she was covered in mud in Romania. He’d seen her naked quite a bit, as he'd enjoyed pointing out. He’d seen her wear a dress before. She even had a few cotton sundresses shoved in her backpack. This wasn't even about Ben, not exactly. Wearing this dress, with everyone talking about them getting engaged, it made her feel like things were real. Like her life button had gotten stuck on fast forward and she was an adult all of the sudden.

"Bea, you're acting really, really strange. Please let me in." Ben pleaded from the other side of the door.


	4. Scotland - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some references to underage drinking by U.S. laws, but then Bea and Ben aren't Americans and they aren't in the United States. . .

Bea cleared her throat. "Promise not to laugh?"

"I'm wearing a kilt. I'm in no position to laugh at anyone." 

"Are you really wearing a kilt?" She had assumed he was joking earlier. Curiosity piqued, she opened the door. 

"See, now was that so --" Ben said and smart alecky comment trailed off.

And he gave her The Look.

Some weird little fluttery feeling happened in her rib cage. Ben had given her his adoring look many times before (he wasn’t subtle), but she’d never seen it when he was all dressed up and even with his skinny legs in a green kilt and his stupid beard he did look good, and ugh. 

Ben scratched at the back of his neck. "You look ummm, amazing." His voice dropped down low and a little hint of Scottish lilt had crept in his voice the way it always did when he was being serious about something. Okay, maybe Meg didn't have the worst ideas ever. 

"Thank you. You look nice too. Even with this awful thing." She cupped her palm to his beard. 

"It's growing on you," Ben said. 

Bea shrugged and then smirked. "It's growing on you. It's your face." 

Ben groaned. "Puns. What did I do to deserve this?" 

"You love it. But you're right, maybe I don't hate it." She dropped her arm, still feeling slightly awkward and giraffe like. 

Ben grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together. "Come on. Let's go do this thing." 

The wedding was beautiful, if you liked weddings. Honestly Bea thought it was a the little, tiniest bit. . . boring? Nothing was original about it. Tilly was beautiful, Alec, the groom, was handsome. They said all the right expected words at the right expected times and they looked adoringly at each other. Everyone was crying and getting emotional and she felt nothing. . . what was wrong with her? 

They made it to the reception, but she picked at her food. The salmon in fancy puff pastry looked gorgeous but tasted dry and dusty in her mouth. She swigged at a vodka tonic, trying to look sophisticated, but her face might freeze if she kept having to smile at Uncle Angus. 

Ben tapped on her wrist and she practically jumped in the air. "Care to dance?" 

She couldn't dance, but then again, neither could Ben. They held onto each other and managed to sway without stumbling. Some sappy ballad from the eighties was playing, so they didn't have to do anything fancy. She was just grateful it wasn't bagpipes. 

"I feel like everyone is looking at us," she said through gritted teeth. 

Ben had his hands settled on her waist, as comfortable as if they slow danced every day. "Because of our awesome dance moves. You're being ridiculous, you know."

She smacked him on the back, lightly. The last thing she needed was a reputation as the abusive girlfriend. "I'm being ridiculous? Your family is talking about us getting married. We're nineteen!" 

"I'll be twenty in four weeks." His breath was warm and soft on her neck. 

"I know and I haven't forgotten and yes, you're getting a present and no, I'm not going to tell you what it is," She said it automatically. "You can't change the subject."

"Okay, remember how in Vienna you promised we could take turns freaking out when we needed to?" He whispered the words into her ear. 

"Yeah." She remembered that night. Ben's wallet had gotten stolen and they'd missed curfew for their hostel. Ben started coming unglued, banging on the entrance and shouting, so she took him out to a beer hall (her treat even though it was his turn to buy dinner) and then they'd slept sitting up on a bench in a U Bahn station all night. Looking back it was funny, but at the time, yikes. 

"I'm saying if you'd like a turn, it's fine by me." He hugged her tight. She rested her cheek on his chest, even though the fabric of his formal jacket felt rough and strange. 

She blew out a big breath. "This is a lot to take in." It was somehow easier to say the words when he was holding her close, but not looking at her. "Everyone is talking marriage and I think your gran already has our china pattern picked out." 

Ben laughed. "Is that all?" 

She pulled back so she could look him in the eye. "What do you mean, is that all? It's terrifying." 

"Look this may come as a shock to you, because of my smooth moves, but you are in fact, my first girlfriend." 

Bea laughed a little in spite of her current frustration. "Oh my god, you're such a dork. Tell me something I don't know. 

"They're excited for me and they like you, okay? They're teasing you. And me. And gran is being gran. She and her neighbor Elspeth are in a race to see who can have the most great grandchildren." 

"You promise no one is going to be annoyed we don't announce our engagement by the end of the night?"

"I promise. Consider this your Hobbes family hazing. And we don't have to do anything you don't want to do." He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Any what?" A suspicion nagged at her. 

"Marriage. Kids. Whatever. We're together. That's all I want."

"If you're going to tell me you like to live in the now, I swear to god I will punch you." 

"I wasn't going say that. Give me some credit. Take a deep breath. You're at a wedding with your gorgeous boyfriend. There's a band and an open bar. Have fun."

"I never said you were gorgeous," she grumbled. 

"Yeah, but you thought it. It's okay. I understand."

And then he was twirling her around and she was laughing and dizzy all at once. How could he make her feel ridiculous, safe, and happy at the same time? 

They danced for a little longer, but someone announced the bouquet toss and Bea knew it was time to make herself scarce. There was no way she was going to subject herself to that tradition. But as she was about to slip out into the lobby, a voice called out to her.

"Hello, dear. Come sit next to me.” Ben's mum waved for Bea to come over. 

Bea walked over reluctantly, bending down to kiss the tiny Antonia on the cheek. She smelled like Chanel Number Five and rum, but it wasn't unpleasant. There was something scary about Antonia. She had been kind and sweet to Bea, but she had this way of looking at you as if she knew the depths of your soul. Maybe it was because she studied criminals for a living. It was a bit unnerving.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine I guess." Bea mumbled, staring at the tablecloth as if the secrets of the universe were hidden there. 

“This is overwhelming, isn’t it?” Professor Hobbes, patted her hand.

“Yes,” said Bea, relieved someone understood. “She tried to back pedal. “I mean it’s a lovely romantic weekend for Tilly, I’m sure, but I wasn’t expecting so much –“

“Pressure.” Professor Hobbes said.

“Yes,” Bea said. “Pressure. Exactly. Ben and I are having fun traveling together and that’s where we are right now.” The words came out in a rush. 

Professor Hobbes took a sip of her daiquiri. “Well, it’s early days yet, isn’t it? You’re still so young for anything too serious, aren’t you?”

“I suppose so.” Beatrice said, not knowing why she suddenly felt deflated. Wasn't this what she and Ben had just agreed on? 

“Anything could happen. It’s wonderful you two are taking it one day at a time. No need to think about the future yet.”

All of the sudden taking it one day at the time didn't sound lovely. She didn't want to stand up in front of a crowd of people in a fluffy white crinoline and say a bunch of sappy stuff to Ben. She didn't. But the idea they had no future together? No. She wanted Ben in there. Somehow. Some way. 

She got up, a little shaky and not from the vodka she'd downed earlier. She dashed to the toilet. Her face was hot and the rest of her body was cold all of the sudden. She wasn't going to cry and she wasn't going to throw up. She'd never experienced emotional whiplash like this before. 

Why did everything have to be so confusing? She needed Hero right now and not for stupid hairdos and makeup tips. Hero would help her make sense of all this. 

There was a tap on the door.

"Go away," she said, knowing who it was.

"Bea, is this still about my family being crazy and adoring you and thinking you're wonderful?" 

"No. Not quite." She gripped onto the counter top for dear life. 

"Bea, I am not afraid to come in there, you know. You have to talk to me."

"No. I don't." But she opened the door anyways. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

"Not yet."

Ben nodded, but she could see the wheels turning. She was being ridiculous about this, but somehow knowing she was being ridiculous wasn't helping change anything.

“How about a walk down by the loch? Should be nice if the midges aren’t out.” Ben said. 

They walked in the strange Highland twilight for a while. She reached for his hand without looking and he squeezed it. He was filling the air with meaningless chatter, talking about falcons and grouse. He was just being Ben and she was grateful for that. 

But then he interrupted her thoughts. “You have a gloom hanging over you.”

“I do not.”

“Bea, this is your face right now.” He imitated her grumpy cat face. “Wait, I’ve got something for that.” He rummaged around in his sporran and pulled out a silver flask.

“Whiskey, yuck.”

“It’s traditional and medicinal. Drink up.”

She had to admit once she got over the burn, it warmed her from the inside out.

They'd made it to the loch and mercifully there were no midges. The sun spread out a warm honey color on the water and there were some birds tweeting in the trees. Ben would know what they were. 

"Sit." He gestured to the ground. She complained about ruining her dress, but she plopped down, secretly relieved. She kicked off her shoes. They were killing her. 

“Your mum hates me.” The whiskey made her tongue loose and funny in her mouth.

Ben scoffed. “My mum loves you.”

“She thinks we’re too young to get married.” She swigged, then handed back the flask. 

“Yeah, well we are too young to get married. ”

“Don’t agree with her. That makes it worse.” Bea wailed. 

Ben sat down beside her, trying to arrange his kilt so he didn’t reveal anything. “How the hell do women do this? It’s bloody awkward.”

Bea stifled a laugh. “Shut up. I’m being serious here. Your mother thinks we’re going to break up.”

“Did she say that?”

“Not exactly.”

“Do you think we’re going to break up?”

Bea picked a handful of pebbles and tossed them in the water. They made a satisfying plopping noise. She thought about another day at another lake and the feeling of holding Ben’s hand. Then she thought about last year in Wellington and how close they both came to throwing it all away. 

“I know I don’t want to break up.” She never wanted to need Ben, but somehow along the way, it had happened. The only thing that made it better was he needed her sometimes too. 

“I don’t want to break up either, so what are you worried about?”

“I want more than ‘we’re not going to break up’." She made the air quotes to make her point. "That’s not good enough anymore.”

“What do you want then?" Ben said.

Bea thought about what it was like to wake up next to Ben every day and the way her heart did a funny little hiccup sometimes when he smiled at her. 

“I want us to get married. Someday. I think. Not soon.” She added. The Hobbes were so wedding crazy right now, they’d be rushed to the altar tonight if she wasn’t careful.

Ben leaned back casually like she hadn’t said something super personal and revealing. “And?”

“And what?”

He gave a heavy sigh. “Where’s my ring, Bea? Honestly, it’s no wonder the men are usually in charge of this. You’re woefully under prepared.”

Ugh you arrogant, awful, stupid --" She launched herself at him, one step from throwing him in the lake, but he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close for a long, lingering kiss that tasted like whiskey. 

She broke off the kiss first. “I take it all back. You’re a terrible human being. I don’t want to marry you,” She said, a little breathless as his fingers trailed up and down her bare arms.

“I don’t think you can take it back, “Ben said. “Besides, I haven’t said yes, yet.”

She reached and pulled out a blade of grass and twirled it into a ring shape. “Will you marry me, someday, a long time from now when we’re much older and wiser?”

Ben’s face broke out into a big smile.“ Yes. Yes, I will.” He slipped on the ring and it immediately fell apart. “Aww. Too bad.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

There was more kissing and everything got a little bit hazy for a while. Eventually, it really did start to get dark and they agreed it was time to get back before people sent out a rescue party.

They took a minute to arrange themselves and walked back to the castle, not quite holding hands, but close so their shoulders would brush and bump against each other. 

“Bea, you know what my mother does for a living, right?”

“She’s a university lecturer of criminology.”

“But her area of expertise is motivating behavior change.” Ben shot finger guns her way. “Reverse psychology. You got played, my friend. I told you my mum loves you.”


	5. Berlin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, I bet everyone thought this would never be finished. I apologize for the delay and hope if anyone is still interested, they enjoy it. This is why I never publish half-finished things. I have a huge amount of half-finished fanfiction saved on my computer. I woke up this morning feeling lighthearted and creative and this is the result.
> 
> There is a (short) reference to drug use in this but no one actually uses drugs.

 

_I'm a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been."_

Kashmir by Led Zepplin

 

Bea thought she knew Ben, really knew him, long before they had ever gone traveling. She’d known him for years after all and he wasn’t exactly the shy and retiring type when it came to sharing his opinion on anything. Within five minutes of meeting him, she knew he was English, thought Batman was better than Ironman (they’d fought about that, of course) and that he loved tea, Doctor Who, and Emma Watson. In that order.

Within a month she’d known his biggest fear (leprosy, only Ben could fear an almost extinct disease), that he had terrible handwriting, and that she wanted to kiss him very, very much.  Then for a long time, all she knew about Benedick Hobbes is that she hated him and she never wanted to look at his stupid face ever again.

Once they started dating, she knew all sorts of new things - how he kissed, how his hand fit into hers. Personal things. Coupley things that she didn’t share with anyone else. No matter how much Meg begged.

But on this trip, she learned lots of new things about Ben.

Like when their train from Warsaw died and they waited for six hours staring at an empty field, she found out he knew all the words to every Who, Pink Floyd, and Led Zeppelin song ever. And he sang them quite loudly. He claimed that it was part of his genetic heritage as an Englishman, but she was pretty sure his older Baby Boomer parents had something to do with it.  

She found out he talked in his sleep and was a terrible blanket hog.  He claimed her snoring was the worst thing he'd ever heard, but they still slept in the same bed whenever they got the chance.  It was like they had to make up for all the time in Wellington they had spent apart.

But it wasn't until she was staying at her friend Angelique's flat in Berlin that she found out how really, really grumpy they both could be when they had a cold.  It was a miserably rainy April day, but they had dragged themselves to the Berlin Zoo and Checkpoint Charlie and to see what was left of the Wall, carrying a box of tissues between them. They had stopped for beers and when they came back at dinnertime, they found Angelique had planned a full night of clubbing and cheap drugs.

Bea tried to summon up enthusiasm even though she could feel a headache forming behind her eyebrows.  Ben mumbled comments about how they couldn't afford to keep going out if they wanted to make it to Tunisia before summer.  Bea did want to go to Tunisia, she did.  And she didn't crave a wild night out, but she didn't particularly like Ben dictating the terms of their travel either.

It had all ended in a stupid, door slamming row and Ben sulking on a futon with a giant set of headphones and a Terry Pratchett book.

Angelique rolled her eyes when Bea said she was staying in even after their huge fight.  "God, it's not like you're married to the guy."

That made Bea bristle, the tiniest bit.  Funny when they were teenagers at school together, Angelique was cool and sophisticated, but now she seemed the slightest bit. . . immature?

Bea offered a sunny smile, hoping it didn't look too fake. "I wouldn't be any fun tonight, anyways.  Let's go grab coffees tomorrow, okay?"

Angelique gave a shrug and a kiss and flitted out the door.  Bea sighed and turned back to Ben.  He didn't look up.  The flat was small and it was so cold they both had their coats on. Angelique claimed the heat was too expensive to waste on a "slightly cool" spring night.  This was ridiculous. Were they both going to pout all night?  Bea considered crawling into Angelique's bed, but what if Angelique came home really drunk or high?  Or what if she came home with someone? No, she and Ben would just have to work through this one.   How did she end up the mature one in this scenario?

She went over to the kitchen nook and made a lot of ostentatious banging noises while she made tea.  She was hoping Ben would stroll over, bump her out of the way, and lecture her on proper tea making.  That's what usually happened. 

But no, there was a whole lot of nothing from Ben.  She made the tea as best she could, with lots of honey and lemon.  Then she brought mugs over for both of them.  She sat next to him (not too close) and placed the cup in his hand.

"Thanks."  His voice sounded rusty and sore. He slipped off his headphones and took a long sip.  He put down his book and a piece of white paper fluttered out.

She reached for it reflexively and Ben made a grab for it.  "That's not for you."

She held it up and laughed.  "Ben, honestly.  It's just a bookmark.  You always remember where you stopped reading anyways."  

"Give it back.  Right now."  There was some steely anger in his voice that wasn't like him. 

She shrugged, "All right then."  She made a big show of setting down her mug and then at the last minute, jumped on the futon and held the paper out of reach.  Ben made a futile effort to grab at it, but he was tired and she was the more athletic one, after all.

She gave a fake evil chuckle as she unfolded the paper, but once it was open, she fell silent.  It was a picture and not one of his goofy dinosaurs he sketched in his stats homework. It was a drawing, a real drawing, of her. She knew exactly when and where it had happened. They’d been waiting on a park bench in France for a group of warblers to fly back to their nests.  She'd reached her "bird interest limit" for the day and had settled down for a nap.  It was a sunny, perfect day.  Ben had played with her hair.  In that moment, she had felt safe and secure, like nothing bad would happen to either of them ever again.  Somehow, with a few pen strokes, he had captured that feeling.  It wasn't at the level of professional portrait, but it was done with such love and affection, it took her breath away.

Ben groaned in agony. "It's awful and creepy.  I"m sorry.  I'll throw it out."  
  
“No. It’s sweet. It’s nice."  The words weren't adequate for the wobbly feeling going on in her heart.  "I didn't know you could draw.” She eased back down onto the futon.

"I told you I could surprise you."

"I thought that was supposed to be a sex thing?"  Bea winked and nudged him with her elbow.

Ben gave an embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, I wasn't exactly being subtle, was I?"

They both fell silent.  She handed the drawing back and their fingers brushed. She put her hands in her lap.  Now they went weren't angry anymore, but things were still off balance.

She sighed. “I'm sorry.  I've been such a brat."

"I might not be at my best right now either." Ben admitted.  "I just felt like if we went out anywhere I'd be a third wheel.  It's pretty clear Angelique wasn't expecting you to have a boyfriend tagging along."

Bea shrugged.  "This trip wouldn't have been the same without you.  I probably would have given up a million times over and gone home."

"Do you want to go home?" There was a hint of nervousness in Ben's voice.

"No.  But I am homesick. There.  I’ve admitted it. I hate it, but it's true. I’ve been looking forward to this for so long and all I want is to be at home, watching daggy movies with you and Hero.”

Ben nodded. “That’s normal.”  

“Not for me.”  She'd always prided herself on being tough, adaptable.  Moving from place to place without a fuss and without looking back. Not needing people. 

“Doesn't your mum ever get homesick for the States?”

  
Bea thought about it. “Sometimes she does. She listens to Reba McEntire and cries and puts peanut butter on everything. But she’s been gone so long, it’s almost like she’s missing her childhood. Missing being young. Did you get homesick? When you first moved, I mean.”

  
“All the time. Something amazing would happen and I’d think I’ve got to tell my best friend Dave about this right now.  Then I’d realize it was the middle of the night and Dave probably would not appreciate a call. And I’d miss my grandfather, some of my other relatives. I'd crave real Marmite, not that Down Under rubbish."

Bea made a raspberry sound. “But seriously, do you ever miss home now? I mean where is home for you, anyways?”

  
Ben rubbed his finger along the edge of his mug. “Promise not to laugh.”

“I make no such promises.”  She took a sip of tea and relished the sweet, hot feeling sliding down her throat.

“You’re a cruel woman, Beatrice Duke.”

“Am I really that bad?" She leaned more into Ben, just the slightest bit.  They'd be warmer this way, that's all.  

He gave her hand a little squeeze. “My home is you.”

“Oh.” This is where she was supposed to blow another raspberry and tell him how ridiculous he was, but she just looked into those blue eyes, so hopeful. Anything she said would be too much or not enough.

“I love you,” she said because it all she could think to say and it was true.

“I love you too.  What do we do now that we're talking to each other again?  Board game?  Cards?"

"God, Angelique's right, we really are like an old married couple."

Ben made a half choking, half coughing noise.  "What was that again?"

Bea shrugged.  "She was joking.  That's all.  God, I can barely think with this headache."  She rubbed at her forehead.

"Me too."  Ben admitted with a sigh.  "I don't think I could play Crazy Eights, much less any real game."

So Ben read the Discworld book out loud to her.  He did all the voices, even with his sore throat.   She didn't know he could read out loud so well, he had never volunteered to read anything at school.  Granny Weatherwax was suitably croaky and aged while Nanny Ogg sounded like a cheery grandmotherly type.  Bea had the fleeting thought she could listen to him every night for the rest of her life.

Once the tea was finished, they tucked the coats around themselves with a blanket on top for extra warmth.  Ben continued reading.  The rain gave a steady drumbeat in the background.  It all was deliciously cozy, like they were children in a blanket fort.

When they reached the end of the book there was some silly bickering about which one of them had to get out from under the covers to get the light switch.  Bea finally did it, running the whole way there and back.

She burrowed into Ben's arms, still shivering.  "I can't believe how fucking cold this apartment is.  At least you have a beard to stay warm."

  
“You tell me to shave my beard all the time.”

  
“Yeah, because your beard is a disgusting rat’s nest.” She playfully brushed her fingers across his chin.  

“Think of all the money we’re saving on razors."

Bea was feeling so tired she couldn't come up with a witty response.  All she could feel a drowsy warmth stealing over her.  It grew so quiet and still she assumed Ben had fallen asleep.

  
“Marry me, Bea.  For real. Someday.” She heard a whisper.

"Hmmm?"  Bea tried to rouse herself from the dreamy state she was in.  He couldn't have said that, could he?

  
He tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled her a little closer. “Nothing, love. Get some sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some ideas for the next chapters and they may be a bit more angsty. Sorry!


	6. Nepal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one is a little different. It's a more angsty one. There's some "bad" language. There is a character death. Feel free to skip if that's not your thing. There is also a time jump.  
> See notes at the end if you need more details.

_So you think you can tell heaven from hell, blue skies from pain?_

"Wish You Were Here" Pink Floyd

Bea kept staring at Hero's text. It was terse, which wasn't like Hero at all.

"Bea, the chemo isn't working for Leo anymore. You need to come home as soon as possible."

She had gotten the message two days ago and she and Ben were still trying to make their way back to New Zealand. Turned out changing travel arrangements at the last minute in Nepal wasn't exactly easy.

Ever since she had gotten the news, nothing had been the same. Gorgeous temples dotted the landscape. The people were kind and friendly. Yesterday, they had taken a bike ride outside of Kathmandu. Right at this very moment, she was standing in a bustling fruit market watching the sun rise. But it was all a blur. The words "come home, come home," kept drumming through her head. She couldn't tune it out.

All they had left on their schedule was an excursion for a tandem swing jump over a canyon. It was like a crazy bungee thing where they were hooked up together. They had booked it months ago. Bea had squealed at excitement at the time. But now, she could barely put one foot in front of the other.

She and Ben had skyped with the aunties in Auckland last night to get a sense of how bad it was. It was bad. It was really bad. Leo's chemotherapy treatments had stopped working. It happened sometimes, apparently. Cancer cells could evolve, the little bastards. Leo was willing to try a different protocol or some experimental treatments, but the first treatment had been the most promising. The doctors said it might be a matter of months.

Bea chewed on her lip. One more day and they could be on a flight. One more day. Then she could see Leo for herself. Not that she could do anything, but she could at least be there with him. She felt helpless. Beatrice Duke did not do helpless well.

"Mango?" Ben whispered in her ear, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"I'm sorry, what?" Bea said, half laughing, half gasping in shock.

"Man-Gooo." Ben said more slowly with a smile. He held up a bright orange fruit. "In season. Did you know the mango is considered the 'king of fruits' in Nepal?"

"Where on earth did you learn that?"

"From my good friend, Sabal." Ben pointed across the crowded fruit market to a tiny, wizened man standing beside a bicycle. Sabal gave a puzzled smile and waved. "You want to know why it's the king of fruits? Funny story, it all has to do with Parvati and Shiva and how they met -"

"You googled it, didn't you?" Bea said, cutting him off.

Ben tried to smile mysteriously. "Maybe." Which meant yes.

"Maybe if we camped out at the airport, we could get a flight today," Bea said.

"We already checked. We booked this jump months ago. Now put your phone away. "

"But we could fly on standby."

Ben slid the phone out of her hands and tucked it in her backpack. "One bite. You're denying the king, here." He held up a slice.

Bea took a bite. It was delicious, bursting on her tongue with sweet sharp taste. The best mango she'd ever had.

"How can I enjoy this when Leo might be dying? How can I be selfish enough to leave in the first place? What if this triggers Hero's asthma?" Her brain wouldn't stop whirring.

"Bea, Leo wanted you to go. Everyone wanted this for you. There's a hiccup in your plans, so we go back. Easy peasy." He said it all as if he wasn't scared and upset too. "Are you sure you're not trying to back out now you've realized you're scared?"

Bea scoffed. "I'm not scared. You're scared. When we were fourteen you couldn't stand on top of the monkey bars without swooning into my arms."

"For the last time, I did not swoon, I tripped."

"You fainted! If I hadn't been there to catch you, you would have cracked your skull open. I rescued you!"

The tour bus conveniently pulled up right then and they got on, bickering the whole time. The bus ride turned into a bit of an adventure in and of itself. The roads wound in and out with hairpin turns making them both queasy. They fell into silence, holding each others' hands, squeezing when it got rough.

But nothing compared to the feeling when they finally saw the canyon. The guide had said it was 160 meters high. Bea's stomach dropped about that far down when they crossed the suspension bridge. This was the jump site. The whole place was beautiful, green and lush with a river trickling below.

"It looks like hobbits could live here." Ben said in a hushed voice.

"Ben, you live in New Zealand. You've been on the Weta Studios tour. Hobbits are Kiwis."

"You know what I mean," Ben said. "Besides that's the movie, Tolkien based a lot of the stories on Welsh folklore -"

"Okay, you know what -" Bea interrupted, nerves humming after four hours in rickety bus. She was about ready for a good fight again.

"This way please, this way," the guide said, interrupting them and gesturing to a bar with a roof, but no walls, where they would get their hands stamped and listen to their safety briefing.

The group, a mix of glowing honeymooners and jaded backpackers, sat through the safety procedures. Slowly in ones and twos they inched out back out onto the suspension bridge. Colorful little prayer flags fluttered in the breeze. The bridge vibrated with every step.

Bea felt very exposed all the sudden, like a gust of wind could sweep her away. She and Ben had picked the middle of the group for their jump. They watched one couple go, screaming and laughing. Then another. One more and then it was their turn. One of the guides, Haresh, started buckling them into the harness and walking them through the procedure one more time. He was tugging on the straps, partially to check them and also to show them everything was safe. 

"Thank you. Thank you. How do you say 'thank you' again?" Bea asked.

" _Dhanyabad_ ," Ben and Haresh both said in unison.

" _Dhanyabad_ ," Bea said, doing her best not to trip over the syllables. Her whole body trembled. This was ridiculous. She had ridden all the scariest, highest rollercoasters at Rainbow's End in Auckland. Why couldn't she stop shaking?

"Okay, now say 'my hovercraft is full of eels,' in Nepali," Ben said in a whisper.

Bea glanced over at Ben, ready for a comeback. They were strapped so tightly together, it was almost hard to get a good look at him. An amused grin peeked out from his huge beard. Ugh, he looked like a weird British lumberjack now. Why did she have to love him so much?

The couple who had finished before them passed by, laughing and giddy.

"How are you not terrified?" Bea asked.

"I'm a superhero, leaping tall buildings in a single bound, et cetera et cetera."

"So you're not scared?"  They inched a little further out onto the tiny platform. The guides held tight to them now, getting them just right for the jump.

"I'm terrified, but you wanted to do this. So we're doing it."

She had a flash of memory then, visiting her American cousins in Las Vegas, the awful dry heat, the feeling they couldn't afford anything in the casinos or the shops. Sunburns for days. The strap of her sundress had broken. Ben had tied it for her and gave her a quick kiss on her shoulder. Then he had made a corny joke about tying the knot and quickie weddings. Some crazy part of her brain had thought, _maybe, maybe someday_.

Bea thought about Leo, time slipping away. She thought about her aunties and how long it had taken them to get married, really married. Nothing in life was sure, but she knew one thing.

"When we get back home, let's get married." She blurted the words out before she could stop herself.

"What?" Ben's voice broke, like it did when he was fourteen.  For some reason, that sound made her feel ridiculously, absolutely certain.

"I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, but I know who I want to spend it with."

"Really?" Ben's eyebrows went all the way from confused the astonished.

Bea laughed. "Yeah. Really."

Haresh and the other guide were urging them to take the jump. Bea could see the people behind them getting antsy.

Ben's face went from a confused smile to a huge grin, like he'd won a some argument she didn't even know they were having. "I'm that amazing, aren't I?"

"Oh shut up. These poor people are getting impatient. Ready?"

Ben squeezed his arm around her a little tighter. "Yeah. Ready."

And with that, they jumped.

Many years later. . .

"Again, Aunt Bea, again! Wedding pictures again!" Edgar and Ariel had shouted.  Bea wondered what she had gotten into, agreeing that she and Ben could handle them by themselves overnight. Twin five-year olds could feel like a swarm of children when they got excited.

And on Christmas Eve, of all nights. But Hero and her husband, Timon, both had shifts at the hospital. Besides, it was a bit of tradition for Christmas Eve to be at Bea and Ben's.

"You know you don't have to ever get married if you don't want to, right? Either one of you?" Bea said. She was worried a bit she was brainwashing them into accepting cultural norms.

"We're too young to get married, Auntie Bea." Ariel pointed this out with infinite patience. They had discussed it quite a few times before.

"And we have some really lovely photos from when Uncle Ben and I were on safari. There is one with me making faces at a hippo."

"Wedding pictures! Wedding pictures!" Ariel and Edgar chanted.

So she had sighed, smiled and grabbed the pretty little white book with pink flowers on the cover. Such a girly Hero choice, but Bea secretly loved it.

The wedding was such a rush, there were only a few photos.  Hero insisted on making a scrapbook anyways, even though it was kind of an old-fashioned.  They could have just put them up on the internet somewhere.

Bea wasn't a "scrapbook person" but she was so glad Hero did it. Hero was the brave one, honestly. Because Hero could look at the pictures without crying. Bea never could.  That didn't mean she didn't try, especially when Hero's little ones asked.

They settled in on the couch and she opened the book, the leather warm and familiar in her hands. The first picture was Bea in a bright yellow dress, because wearing white was a silly tradition. It would have looked too depressing in a hospital room, anyways. Then Hero. She wore pink, of course.

"Mummy looks so beautiful," Ariel said.

"Your Mummy is always the most beautiful," Bea said. They had this conversation many times before, it was almost like a script. And of course, it was true. Hero always was the most beautiful. Even now.

Then there was a picture of "the boys." Hero insisted Ben and Leo had to have ties to match the dresses, even though Leo grumbled a pink and yellow striped tie was unmanly and made him look like an Easter egg. Anyways, the tie was more draped over Leo than tied around his neck. He was propped in a hospital bed, Ben was perched next to him and they were laughing.

"Why are they laughing, Auntie Bea?"

"I don't quite remember," Bea lied. Leo had actually made a rather dirty joke about not being able to throw Ben a stag party. Bea had caught them at the right moment with the camera. Then she had flipped them off because really, Leo, how sexist.

"So you weren't sad because Uncle Leo was dying?" Edgar asked.

"We were sad. We were very sad, but we were also happy because we were all together."

"That doesn't make sense," Edgar said. Bea looked at their adorable crinkled foreheads, equally puzzled and reminding her so much of Leo it hurt her heart.  

Her jaw ached and she knew it was a sign the tears were starting to creep up on her. "You'll understand better when you're older."

"He looks so tiny," Ariel said and touched Leo's face with wonder.

"He was tiny by then," Bea said, struggling to keep her voice level. Leo was a shadow of the hale and hearty football player he had been his whole life. She remembered being a little kid.  How he could toss both Hero and her up in the air as if they weighed nothing. Near the end, even Hero probably could have picked Leo up and carried him across the room, he was so frail.

Then there was a picture of the aunties and the parents, doing their best to smile, but really looking quite serious. It hadn't been an easy day for them.  This was admitting Leo wasn't going to make it much longer and that there were things he was never going to do, like get married. Have a family.

"Our grandmums were so young!" Edgar said.

"Yes, they were, although don't let them hear you say it." Losing Leo had aged all of them, a bit.

Breathe, breathe, Bea reminded herself. Her face was getting hot. If she could keep breathing, the tears would come out in a trickle, not a rush.

"This one is my favorite," Bea said, as she turned the page.

There it was. The whole lot of them crowded on the bed for the family photo and everyone was smiling. Everyone from the school days was there. Even Claudio, who they had dragged in at the last minute after some frantic texting. The nurses had fussed at them for having so many people in a hospital room, but they had all cried when Bea and Ben said their vows. Probably more than any of the real guests. Bea didn't cry on her wedding day, that was for sure. She was too busy trying to memorize every single second.

The ceremony was short and sweet. Bea had given the head nurse the bouquet (as a bribe, no way was she going to do something as stupid and demeaning as throw the bouquet) and passed out cake to everyone. The cake was in the shape of a Tardis. Some things were non-negotiable. The last picture was of Bea in Ben's lap, both of them grinning, mouths covered in dark blue smears.

She heard someone settle in beside them. Ben.

"Thank you," she mouthed silently over two little blond heads.

"Come on, hooligans. You've got to get to bed or we'll never have a full day at the beach tomorrow."

"Uncle Ben, can't we stay up and wait for Santa?"  Edgar said.

"Father Christmas? No. You cannot. It does not work that way."

There were grumbles and groans, but they went off to bed. Ben started describing an elaborate magical telescope that Santa, Father Christmas rather, used to see if children were sleeping. Ariel and Edgar were eating it up. They were always so good for him. She and Ben had talked about having kids of their own, someday. Maybe they still would. There was plenty of time.

Once they were gone, she took the time to hunt down the tissues. Behind the bookshelf again.  Minerva, the evil murder cat, must have been playing with the box. She settled the box in her lap.  She flipped the book back to a photo where Leo was smiling and let everything out. The tears came out hot and fast for a while, then slowed down to a trickle.

She sensed Ben coming back in, shooing the cat off the sofa and settling in beside her.

"How do you do that?"  Bea asked, finally looking up from the scrapbook.

"Do what?"  Ben said.  He was older now.  No beard, thank god. A few more laugh lines around the blue eyes.  But he was just .  .  . Ben.  Everyone (except maybe Hero) had thought they were crazy for getting married so young.  But they didn't have any doubts.  Not then and not now.

She patted his hand. "Show up right when I need you."

"It's like I said, Bea.  I'm a superhero.  I am Batman."  He tried for a growly Christian Bale voice.

Bea laughed.  "Uh, no don't do that again."

Ben nodded. "Agreed."  He cleared his throat.  "Do you ever regret it? That we got married that way?  No big fancy party?"

Bea touched Leo's face in the picture lightly.  He was smiling.  It would always hurt a little to look at him, to think about him being gone. She even missed fighting with him. He was so often wrong about things. But It hurt a little less now. It helped she saw some of him in Edgar and Ariel almost everyday.

"No, I don't regret it. You?"

Ben shook his head. "Not at all. Come on, kettle's on. Let's have a cup and start wrapping presents."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know very little about cancer or bungee-jumping or Nepal and I did try to do some research on the Internet but I apologize if this seems rather vague or if I got something wrong.  
> This started out with the idea of a tandem bungee jump and a quickie wedding for Bea and Ben. Originally I pictured it happening near Vegas, but fun fact, there are not a lot of places you can do tandem jumps in the US. I also had a really hard time imagining why Bea would want to rush to get married. Then I thought of a really good reason, so I apologize for the angst!  
> I promise Leo makes it and has a full and healthy life in every other chapter! Alternate realities, man. They're wild.  
> I know I read a fanfic where Hero grows up to be a pediatrician. I loved that idea and stole it, but I can't remember the author. Thank you, fanfiction person!  
> Oh, and I wasn't sure if Bea and Ben would have kids, so I left that open-ended. The reader can decide what they like. I think Hero would definitely have kids and Bea and Ben would spoil them rotten. That I know for sure ;-)


	7. England - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is less angsty, I hope. But it does briefly refer to children dying (very much in the past and not related to any of the characters in nmtd!) so head's up. See end notes for more details.  
> I apologize this one has two parts. No real "cliffhanger", I promise. There is more to come and it made sense to split the scenes up.

_When I say I love you, you say you better, you better, you better, you bet._  

"You Better, You Bet"  The Who

Ben insisted he had the perfect itinerary when they finally made it to England. 

"I've got it all planned out. You're going to love it."

"Does this mean we have stop by every Christopher Marlowe landmark along the way?"

"You mean like our visit to Geneva? Oooh, Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein here. She slept one night here. Look, she used the loo here. Let's stop for a minute."

Bea held up her hands, but she was laughing. "Okay, I get your point."

There was just one thing. Ben said he wanted to stay at his cousin Tilly's flat in London. He assured Bea it would be fine. "You'll like Tilly. She's cool."

Tilly was not cool at all. She was like Ben, but in girl form. But all that meant she was sweet and funny if a bit odd. She always had Hobnobs and chocolate in the pantry. Best of all she had a guest bedroom with a real bed. She didn't even charge them rent, so long as they paid their share of the groceries and the utilities. It was a huge upgrade from a hostel and massively helpful considering they were staying in one of the most expensive cities in the world. The only weird thing they had to put up with was her obsessive genealogy habit.

"The Hobbeses are somewhere over here," Tilly said, waving excitedly. Her pink bobble hat bobbed up and down, making her look like an overgrown elf. 

Bea tried to smile. They were in a quaint little town called Stratford-on-Avon. It was a damp Saturday afternoon in a churchyard and the November sky was threatening to rain on them any minute. Her mouth watered at the idea of scones and Devon cream in some fancy tea room, but she knew they had to do this first.

"Be there in a tic, Tilly." Ben grinned and waved back.

"Are you rescuing me from more recitations of the glorious Hobbes lineage?" Bea faked a swoon.

Ben squeezed her hand and whispered in her ear, "I'm rescuing us both."

Ben seemed more English in England somehow. Maybe because he was wearing a giant wool overcoat and his accent got heavier the more time he spent here. They had gone out for pints last night with Tilly and her fiance, Alec. Their accents got thicker with each round. Bea thought she was going to need subtitles before the last order. 

"What are you smiling about?" He said, interrupting her wayward thoughts.

Bea tugged at his plaid scarf (not knit by Tilly, thank goodness). "You look like a cologne ad."

"Hmm. That sounds good. Is it good?" Ben raised an eyebrow. 

"It's good. Just no actual cologne, please. That stuff was foul."

"You promised not to tease me about the Lynx Body Spray years," He said in a mock serious tone.

She leaned over and gave him an impulsive kiss on the cheek, even with the scratchy beard. She couldn't help it. He didn't smell like cologne, thank goodness. He smelled like clean soap and fresh air and everything wonderful.

Now Ben smiled. "What was that for?"

"For being you."

He cleared his throat and stopped abruptly. "Shall we have a seat? I doubt they'll mind." 

He made an elaborate flourishing gesture to one of the smaller crypts. It was a simple gray building with a set of stairs leading up to a locked entrance. The little overhang had kept the stairs dry and it looked like a cozy, albeit a little morbid, place to sit.

She read the inscription on the door before sitting down. It seemed rude not to. "Here lies the Shakespeare family, died in July 1564. "

"That was the plague year," Ben said, interrupting.

"You would know that," Bea said, teasing, but she secretly liked he always knew random trivia. Their team always killed on pub quiz nights and how else could they get in ridiculous fights about everything? 

She continued on. "John, the father. It says here he was a city alderman. Must be why they got a nice crypt. Mary was the mother." She ran her hand down the stone, names worn down smooth by the years. "Joan, Margaret. They were little girls. And here's the last, 'William.' He was a just a baby."

She sank down on the steps next to Ben and tilted her head onto his shoulder. "That's so sad. The whole family gone at once. Do you ever think except for a few changes, everything might have been different?"

"What do you mean? " Ben wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her under the huge coat. She snuggled in a little closer to him, shivering. No wonder Brits were constantly drinking tea, was it ever warm here? 

She twisted her fingers round and round, as if she could turn over the thoughts in her head. Ben was usually the one with nervous energy, but she'd had a lot on her mind lately. "What if you hadn't moved to New Zealand? What if we'd never gotten over fighting with each other? What if we really broke up when you went to uni? "

He shrugged, an easy, loose-limbed gesture. "Maybe we would have found each other anyways. I clearly wasn't meant to go to university. Not right now anyways."

Bea harrumphed. It was not her crotchety old emu noise, no matter what Hero said. 

Ben kept going. "I mean, think about it, what haven't we overcome so far? You've always wanted to travel around the world. You've always had a thing for English guys. Right?" He smirked at her.

"Certain English guys. It's a select group."

"There you are. You could have strolled into a pub in some sleepy little town in England and instantly fallen for my good looks and charisma." He said it in his cocky voice that could infuriate her or make her laugh, depending on the situation. 

"I'm sure that's exactly what would have happened." She rolled her eyes. "What if I had met Benedict Cumberbatch first?"

"I think I could take him," Ben waved off her concerns like it was nothing. 

Bea made a second harrumph. "It's sexist and demeaning for men to fight over women like a trophy."

"Too right, " he said, totally unruffled by her annoyed tone. 

At first she was going to tease him for giving in so easily to her argument, but the image of the two Bens squaring off made her giggle too hard. "Really? You'd take him down?"

"Probably not, but I'm scrappy and willing to fight dirty. I'm trying to say maybe we were meant to be." 

"Maybe." She kicked at a pile of brown leaves. They were running out of time. She had already made arrangements to start uni when they got back. She'd tried to ask him, gently and carefully, about what his plans for next year were, but so far he had none. He would shrug, tell a joke, and change the subject. 

"You're distracting me here. I'm trying to ask you something." Ben fumbled around in his coat pocket. 

"Uhh," She felt a rush of something. Her heart wasn't really racing, was it? That wasn't something that happened to real hearts in real life? She had been trying to get him to think more about the future, but she didn't want to think this far in the future. Did she? 

Ben pulled out their tattered list of places to visit. He smoothed it out over his knee. "Look, I know we talked about flying back to Australia to spend some time with your parents, but could we maybe stay a little longer? I want to show you a real English Christmas. We can be with your family for the New Year. My parents offered to help pay for the change in the cost, if you're interested."

She pressed her hand to her chest. "Oh my god, yes. You scared me to death."

Ben frowned, but he was more confused than angry. "Why? What did you think I was going to ask you?" 

She shook her head. "Nothing." She felt a bit ridiculous at where her head had gone to.

Thankfully, Tilly found them then and took them on another expedition.

She was thrilled to be staying, really. But telling her parents hadn't been easy.

"I thought it was going to be so special. We were all going to be together at home this year." Her mother's voice quavered. Bea couldn't tell if the connection was breaking up from the distance or if her Mum about to cry.

"You and Dad live in Australia full time now. It's not home." She rubbed her forehead. Where was home? After almost a year of traveling, she wasn't sure she knew anymore. She wanted to see her family, but her mother was so unreasonable sometimes.

Her mother made a hmmm noise. Bea knew that noise. 

"We're almost done with the route we planned, Mum. We'll be back in January."

"What comes next, Beatrice? Has Ben found himself yet?" Her mother's voice was coming in loud and clear now. And it was dripping with sarcasm.

"He's got some plans," Bea said, hedging. She twisted at the fringe of a blanket. Tilly crocheted some really crazy things. This one was flame orange with neon green stripes.

"So no job, then. "

"I don't have a job yet either." Bea pointed out.

"But you're going to university in Wellington. Maybe he needs to go back to Auckland and live with his parents for a bit. You have goals. What is he going to do, be a barista, a bartender, a house husband?"

"Would any of those things be so bad?"

"You have a lot of ambitions and dreams for your life. I don't want someone dragging you down. "

"Ben doesn't drag me down. He helps me. . . be me," she said, helpless to describe it any other way. 

"I know you both think you're in love, but you're so young. Give yourselves both sometime to grow up, okay?" 

Bea managed to make her excuses and got off the phone quickly after that. It was amazing how talking to her mother could always make her feel worse. It was a gift, really. This called for one thing. Emergency chat with Hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I killed William Shakespeare as a baby. Sorry!
> 
> This was another idea that came to me really early. One of things I found interesting about "Lovely Little Losers" is they really doubled down on the whole "Shakespeare doesn't exist in this universe" idea (although 10 Things I Hate About You does exist, so that's interesting), and I had to fit in an explanation somehow, even if only in passing. And it made me think of how life is full of missed chances and different opportunities.
> 
> I took a little liberty with Shakespeare's sisters. They actually both died before William was born (Elizabethan England was rough, man), but I thought it would seem improbable for William Shakespeare to be an only child. In 1564, the plague came in July to Stratford-on-Avon and over 200 people died. William Shakespeare was less than a year old.
> 
> Oh and Lynx Body Spray is apparently what they call Axe Body Spray in the UK, Australia, and New Zealand. That was too funny to pass up.


	8. England - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote two Christmas-y stories in a row. Sorry, don't know where my brain is.

Bea glanced at the clock. Early morning here (Mum always insisted she call at dinnertime), but Hero was in an evening class at university, so she really shouldn't call or text. But. . . 

Bea popped open her laptop. History was Hero's least favorite class, so maybe. . . yes! Her chat window was open.

"Hiya. Can we talk for a second?" She sat and watched the dots whir for what felt like an eternity.

"Bea!" Bee emoji. "Is everything okay? Isn't it really early there?" Worried face, tired face. Hero went a little overboard with this emoji stuff sometimes.

"Phone call with Mum. Also, I thought Ben was going to propose yesterday. Kind of panicked."

"How romantic!!!" Diamond ring emoji, followed by lots of hearts and kissing faces.

"So romantic that I'm freaking out?"

"You've been wanting Ben to think more about the future, right?" Thinking face.

"Yeah, but I was thinking more like, do we want to get a dog? Not, are we going to swear our everlasting devotion to each other?" 

Bea chewed on a fingernail. Was the wifi particularly slow today, or was that her imagination? 

"Puppies are so cute." Dog emoji, heart eyes. 

"They are cute, but you're missing the point."

"Bea, it's very simple. Why are you scared?" No emojis this time. Bea didn't need to see Hero to picture her expression. Hero would be sitting with a little smile, able to sit patiently forever for Bea to answer her question. Bea couldn't lie to that face.

Bea's hands hovered over the keyboard for a minute. Then she forced herself to type. "Because I feel like none of this is real. Flitting from place to place. We're going to go back home. What if everything between us vanishes when we have to be real adults? "

"Are students really adults?" Winky face. "You two have fought on this trip, yeah?" Angry face.

"Sooo many times."

"And gotten scared?" Scared face. "And gotten sick and taken care of each other?" Sick face, then toilet emoji.

"Yuck, Hero. How did you get a reputation as the sweet innocent one?"

"Yes or no?"

"Yes. We've definitely done all of those things." 

"Neither of you has run off?" Goodbye hand wave, then running shoes, then a puff of smoke. Okay, that one was kind of clever.

"No."

"There you go then. The thing is, you need to talk to Ben about this. Not me. Must go, History prof is staring me down." Kissing face. Then she was gone.

"Hero, wait!" But it was no use. Hero had exited the chat. Bea was alone with still no clue of how to talk to Ben about this. Her stomach was turning inside out. She liked to think she was brave (Gryffindor, all the way), but this? Not about this.

She tiptoed into the tiny guest room. Weak winter light filtered in through the curtains. Ben was on his back, fast asleep. When he was awake he was almost always fidgeting, but now he looked older, somehow. Peaceful. It seemed a shame to wake him. 

But Hero did say to talk to him. She probably meant talk to him when he was awake, right? The problem was, Bea felt like she would jump out of her skin any minute. Now that "talk to Ben" was on her mental to do list, she couldn't think of anything else.

She made a quick detour to the kitchen for a cup of tea and grabbed some Jaffa Cakes. If she was going to wake him up, the least she could do was bribe him. Her mouth watered at the smell of chocolate, but she resisted the urge. It was going to an important cause. She set the tea carefully by the night stand and fussed with the cup and saucer, hoping the smell of English Breakfast would wake him up. Ben had often said it would revive a dead Englishman.

Not this Englishman. Ben let out a contented sigh and rolled over.

She stared at the ceiling. She shouldn't do this. She could be an adult. They could have this conversation later. Except she knew she would wimp out or he would toss out a snarky comment and she would drop it. They would kick the conversation down the road. Again. 

Slowly, carefully she reached out and poked him with her index finger.

"Wha!" Ben sat straight up in bed. His hair stuck up all over and he looked endearingly rumpled.

"Sorry. Sorry. It's me." Bea patted his arm.

Ben rubbed at the sleep in his eyes. "It's so early. Why did you wake me up?"

"I'm scared, okay?"

Ben's face looked confused for a minute. Then his expression cleared. "Did you have the nightmare about giant jellyfish again?" He held open his arms. "Come on. Lie down. I told you banoffee pie right before bed was a mistake."

"No. Not that kind of scared." Bea wrapped her arms around herself. Why was this so hard to say? She stared down at her feet and mumbled, "I'mscaredaboutus."

"About us?" Ben said. It still wasn't sinking in. 

"About what happens when we go back to home. It's like we'll have to start over again."

"Oh that." He slid up in bed, grabbed the tea, and took a cautious sip. "This is amazing. Thank you." But he didn't meet her eyes.

"Oh that? Is that all you're going to say?" Bea puffed out a sigh. 

He put his teacup down. It made a loud clink in the quiet of the room. "You talked to Hermione, didn't you?"

Bea nodded. "Then I talked to Hero. It made me feel better, but she still said I should talk to you." 

"She's right, of course. Okay, Hermione, is Hermione. But what else is bothering you? Your mum is always crazy. This is not new."

This was the embarrassing part. She picked at the sheets. "The other day in the graveyard, I thought you were going to propose. It kind of freaked me out."

"What? I'm insulted. You know I would pull off something way more amazing than a graveyard proposal. There's going to be mimes and maybe fire. Oooh, mimes on fire." He tapped his fingers together, evil genius style. "Might need to write that down."

God, he probably would do that. Skywriting, fireworks, something ridiculous. 

It took a second for her to process the rest of what he said or rather, what he had not said. She glanced up from the fuzz on the linens. "You're not upset I was scared of getting married?"

Ben grinned. "It's like you think I don't know you, Bea. Of course you're scared. But being scared doesn't stop you from doing something. It never has."

"I'm scared we'll change," she said in a whisper.

"We will. We're only twenty years old. I for one, plan to age amazingly. Picture this," he framed his beard with his hands, "with a little salt to go with the pepper."

"Ugh. Hard pass."

He rubbed his fingers along his chin. "I hadn't really thought about dyeing it, but I do love you. I might consider it for a price. Maybe if you brought me tea every morning. There would have to be biscuits too." He took a bite of one. "Mmmm."

"You never take this seriously, Ben." Anger was bubbling up in her and she could hear her voice rising. "This is exactly what I'm talking about!"

"What do you want me to say? I'm scared too?" Ben was shouting too now, great. 

"You are?" Bea said. She rocked back a little. She was shocked but weirdly pleased at the same time.

"Of course. Bea, you want to set the world on fire. Sometimes it's all I can do to keep up. I'm worried I won't be enough for you." Ben's voice was still heated, but he was quieter. He had that intense serious look in his eyes. It meant he was telling her something important. 

Bea bit her lip. "You're enough for me. You're more than enough. " She wanted to tell him how important he was to her, how much this trip had meant, but nothing would come out. Crap. Where was Balthazar with a melody when you needed him? She reached for his hand, patted it awkwardly. 

Ben smiled. "There you go then. We'll just have to change together."

"For the rest of our lives?"

"That's the plan." Ben took a bite of Jaffa Cake.

She scootched in next to him and stretched out her legs. "Doesn't it scare you? It's so big, so permanent. How can it be that simple?" 

"How can it be that complicated? We love each other. We're both brilliant. We'll figure it out. We always do. It's not like we have to get married tomorrow. Besides, being with you is one of the few things, I'm absolutely, positively sure about." He held up a Jaffa Cake. "Come on. Have one." He placed it carefully between his lips and then waggled his eyebrows at her.

She couldn't help it, she laughed. Maybe a tiny part of her wasn't scared anymore. 

It turned out, the "real English Christmas" Ben had promised meant lots of being dragged around to meet distant relatives. That wasn't even including all the relatives who had squeezed into Tilly's flat. Every time Bea turned around, she stepped on a Hobbes. Okay, it was going to be cool to watch all the Christmas specials snuggled up under a blanket with lots of hot cocoa. Bea was even hoping there might be a sprinkle of snow. But nothing had been exactly what she hoped for.

So far there was rain. Lots and lots of it. She missed barbecues, fresh fruit. hanging out with Hero, her aunties on the beach. That's what Christmas meant to her. 

And Christmas Eve definitely did not mean standing on the stage of an Elizabethan theater, at night. In the freezing cold. Some Marlowe-heads, as they called themselves, had paid to have the Rose Theater restored a few years ago. And it was beautiful, like something out of a fairy tale. High beams criss-crossing until there was a perfect round circle letting in the night sky. Between the clouds and the light pollution, there wasn't a lot to see, but it still felt somehow amazing to look up into darkness stretching upward. No rain, for once. The traffic had settled into a muted hum, since most people were home, getting ready for tomorrow. It almost could have been four hundred years ago, right before a performance.

But it wasn't a warm summer's day. They were here when it was empty. The whole place was a bit spooky.

"Okay, okay," Bea said. "Why are we here?" Her voice echoed and bounced off the walls. 

"My uncle Oberon knows someone who knows someone. It's beautiful isn't it? Can't you feel it? Creaking floorboards, the smell of roasted hazelnuts, roar of the crowd."

"The smell of the crowd," Bea said, unable to resist teasing him a bit more. "Does your Uncle Oberon also know someone who owns a tarp?" 

"That would spoil the affect." Ben gestured at the open air above them.

"Seriously, Ben, what are we doing here, besides freezing our tits off?"

"Beatrice, language, really. "

She raised an eyebrow.

"I wanted to be alone to give you your Christmas present. I was certain my family wouldn't follow us out here. Well, 99.9 percent certain," he said, glancing nervously behind him.

"If this is a possum fur g string, you will be in big, big trouble."

"Still touchy about your birthday present, I see. You said you wanted something from home. "

"I meant some of Hero's home baked cookies. Not a tacky gag gift from some tourist shop. I haven't completely forgiven Meg for helping you either. "

"It's not a g string." He pulled out a small box. 

Something large got stuck in her throat. Like she'd swallowed a grapefruit whole. And she hated grapefruits.

She took it, hands shaking.

"It's not a ring, I swear."

But she noticed his hands were shaking a little too.

The box opened with a little snap. A shiny set of keys with a Time-Turner key chain. 

"They're the keys to Freddie's flat in Wellington. She and Kit are moving to Rototaura to open up a coffee shop. I've worked out a deal. It's ours for the next year. If we want it. If you want it. You can go to school. Go into law like you've been planning. Save the world. Hero can live with us. Or Pedro and Balthazar. Meg. Whoever."

"Are you saying you want all of Messina to move in?"

"No, I'm saying, we pick our flatmates, we decide the rules. Together."

Bea flipped the keychain over and over again. Smooth, cool, and shiny, promising something new. But not really that new, just changing, evolving. "But what are you going to do?"

He scruffed a hand through his hair. It stood up on end like it used to when they were younger. He smiled a little nervous half smile. He had a full beard now (neatly trimmed, thank you very much Grandmother Hobbes for the nagging) and it was like she could see all the Bens she'd ever known, right back to the gawky fourteen year old who first argued with her about everything all those years ago. Maybe she could even see a little glimpse of future Ben, of the man he was becoming.

"I don't know, whatever. Be with you. Work. Sort myself out. It's not a marriage or a civil union. If you don't want. It's not anything we don't want it to be. "

She took a step closer, then paused dramatically. "Of course you would steal my speech." She was trying for her best mock hurt voice.

Ben gave her a 'really, we're doing this?' look. "I thought you might be flattered. I wouldn't quite call it a speech, more like a brief statement."

"Um, excuse me, it was a defining moment in our relationship, but I forgive you your plagiarism."

He reached out and tapped the key chain. "I'm saying I want more time with you. And if the flat in Wellington isn't right, let's figure out something together. I thought about a Tardis key chain at first, but this one seemed more special because, well, you know why. "

Bea smirked. She couldn't help it. "Yeah, I haven't forgotten. Our first kiss. I kissed you first, remember?"

"You bloody attacked me. I feared for my life for a moment."

"I did not attack you!" She stepped back. The floorboard squeaked. "I think I'm honestly offended."

"Would you like to go back and watch the unedited footage?"

Panic grabbed at her throat. "Benedick Hobbes, please tell me you did not save that."

"It's in a very safe location. " Ben grinned. 

Bea's pulse kicked up. Her fear must have shown because Ben shook his head. "Joking, joking. Although it might have been fun to show the kids someday."

Bea blushed. Blushing? What? She was just going to ignore that second sentence. "I didn't attack you. I lost my balance. You were certainly never going to make a move."

Ben threw up his hands. "I didn't know I was supposed to be making a move. You had just stopped hating me. I wasn't sure if we were friends, most days."

Okay, looking back. . . She had kind of lunged at him a bit. He was just being so different. So, not Ben. There had been this weird "something" in the air between them, ever since the last video. The one Leo had barged in on. 

At first she thought she could just ignore the tension, but when Ben was talking, she had this weird moment of clarity. They couldn't go back to what they were before and she didn't want to. The only way out was through, even if it blew up in her face. She had hopped up from his bed and tried to kiss him to stop him from talking. Instead of being spontaneously romantic, she had managed to take both of them down, tumbling on the floor. Once they had stopped laughing, she had kissed him. And he had kissed her back. The rest of that whole video was filled with awkward, lovely moments. Thank god for editing, that's all she had to say. 

But she wasn't going to say that right now. His ego didn't need any help tonight. 

Instead she rolled her eyes. "I was sitting on your bed. Wearing your shirt. You were the only person who made sense in my life then. And there you were being kind and rambling on and on to cheer me up -"

"I was not rambling." Ben interrupted. "I was discussing a very important topic, thank you very much. Time travel is worthy of serious academic stud-"

Bea pressed one finger to his lips. His mouth slammed shut, mid sentence. "Ben, you were babbling. You're very cute when you babble."

Ben nodded, still not speaking. He swallowed hard. It was killing him not to talk. She could tell. 

"I'm going to kiss you now. Try not to fall over."

She stepped into his arms, leaning in for a kiss. Then at the last minute she pulled back. "But that beard better fucking go."

"So is this a yes on the flat in Wellington?" Ben's voice was a grumpy mumble. 

"Yes, that's yes."

"Seal it with a kiss then," he said in kind of a bossy tone. 

She'd usually say no just on general principle, but she had been looking forward to this time alone as much as he had, maybe more. So she kissed him. No one fell over, but her knees wobbled a bit. She hoped she'd never stop feeling this way when she kissed Ben. Like time could stretch and spin and there was only the two of them in the whole world.

If only there wasn't an irritating tickling sensation at her hair and neck. It was even sneaking under her wooly scarf and hat set (early gift from Tilly, of course). She paused, looked up. White flecks were swirling gently from the sky. They dusted her face. Cold, so cold. She touched her face in wonder. Wet. It couldn't be. 

"Ben, snow. Real snow on Christmas!" She shrieked and started jumping up and down. She couldn't help it. She'd never thought she'd see this. Not in a million years. 

Ben grabbed the Time-Turner out of her fist, held it up just out of reach. "I bet you'd want to live this moment over and over again if you could."

Bea shook her head. "Nah. Too many good times ahead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are so many wonderful fanfiction interpretations of what was going on between the cuts in the video "WORDS", but I had to put my own little spin in it. Editing out the love declarations from the play is one of the most brilliant AND evil things The Candle Wasters have ever done. I didn't quite stick with the play, but it was fun to work it into the story.
> 
> Yes, possum fur is a real New Zealand thing. I have some lovely fingerless gloves that are a mixture of possum fur and merino wool. They were a gift from someone who had visited there and told me about possum fur g strings as gag gifts for tourists.
> 
> Okay, guys. Last chapter (or chapters?) will be the real deal. How they get engaged. I only have the vaguest of notes jotted down, so it will be a while before it's finished, but I swear on the heart of my own evil murder cat it will get finished.


End file.
